


The Sign

by california_112



Category: Biggles Series - W. E. Johns
Genre: Gen, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/california_112/pseuds/california_112
Summary: This meant that now, he was very tired, and just wanted a short couple of hours of restful slumber. Theoretically, he could have gone upstairs to his shared room, but if Biggles saw that he had gone to bed in the middle of the day, he wouldn't be too happy. So, he was left with the single lumpy sofa in the mess, and made of it what he could.-or-Ginger just wants to a break. This almost happens- in both senses.ABSOLUTELY 0% SPOILERS FOR ANYTHING
Kudos: 1





	The Sign

There was one sofa in the mess at Rawlham, and Ginger intended to sleep on it. Given that the rest of the room was full of his squadron mates chatting about yesterday's sorties, this would be quite an ask.

Not only were they chatting amongst themselves, but they also felt the need to include Ginger in the discussion. He didn’t need telling about any of the offensive patrols yesterday, however, as he had been on all of them; a temporary shortage of pilots after a couple of particularly bad landings had left them without enough people to make up the usual details. Stupidly, he had volunteered to fill the spots- all of them.

This meant that now, he was very tired, and just wanted a short couple of hours of restful slumber. Theoretically, he could have gone upstairs to his shared room, but if Biggles saw that he had gone to bed in the middle of the day, he wouldn't be too happy. So, he was left with the single lumpy sofa in the mess, and made of it what he could.

He couldn't make much of it. People kept asking his to clarify details, or tell his side of the story, which he not-so-politely refused. Eventually, after too many interruptions, Ginger scrawled 'next person to disturb me gets hit' on a piece of paper, and put it on his chest as he lay back down. It seemed to work, and he drifted off into spiralling sleepy thoughts soon afterwards. Unsurprisingly, the conversation went on merrily without him.

Sometime later, a fair way into a good nap, a voice cut through his musings.

"That sign applies to me?"

"Yes, it does." Ginger snapped, without thinking, then opened half an eye to find the source of the voice.

It was the CO. Of course it was.

He sat up abruptly, snatching the sign off his chest with one hand whilst the other jumped to his head, which was rocking. Biggles eyed him with an unreadable expression, somewhere between amusement and annoyance. Ginger ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"Tired?"

"Very."

Biggles continued to stare at him for a minute. "At least you didn't hit me."

"Yes, sir."

Several thoughts seemed to cross Biggles' mind before he spoke again. "Go to bed, nothing's going on this afternoon. I'll send someone to wake you up when dinner's ready."

"Thank you, sir."

Sheepishly avoiding the stares of his silent messmates, he climbed the stairs and flopped into his bed. Finally, he got some decent rest.

**Author's Note:**

> i hate titles
> 
> This little snippet of 666 life worked itself out of a true story, and in this context, I can see the comedic side. At the time, not so much :')


End file.
